A Bittersweet Memoire
by The Absynth Fairy
Summary: Sirius tells his side of The Secret Longings of Lupin. SLASH WARNING!


Author's Note: YIPEE! Another chapter! You know, I've had this written for QUITE a while, but I procrastinated a LOT, so I never really got around to actually copying this chapter onto my computer. I hope you guys enjoy this new chapter, here, because I know that at least some of you out there were awaiting a new chapter. So here it is! Hmmm, my lovely little brain bunny.  
  
Disclaimer: Sorry, these characters are absolutely NOT mine. They belong to J.K. Rowling and a bunch of rich movie-type blokes.  
  
SECRET LONGINGS OF LUPIN  
Part 2  
  
Sirius' Point Of View  
  
I have no actual regrets about what exactly happened between Remus and I at Hogwarts. But what should be more important is the story behind it. It's very hard to explain right now, my relationship with Remus. All I can really say is that I perhaps loved Remus more than I should have as a friend. Perhaps I love him still. I'm a bit confused about my feelings right now, to be honest, but I'll try to make it coherent, so I don't sound like a madman babbling about past loves gone to ruin.  
  
And when did this romantic event take place, if we are to call it one? Well, I would have to call it the Miraculous Marauder Era. Now, don't get me wrong, but I'd always LIKED Remus... but, yes, boys and girls, there came a time when I actually felt a little bit MORE for him. Oh, the irony of it! And for years I've been waiting to tell this! And I barely know what to say! This is so bloody hard to describe, but I promise that I'll try my absolute best.  
  
I solemnly swear that I am up to no good...  
  
Didn't I just say something about liking Remus a little more than I should? Well, now, I can't really say 'like'. Of course what I really meant was 'love'. Yes, love, ladies and gentlemen, that lone feeling I reserved for the very few people that brought out absolute tenderness in me: my godson Harry, my childhood friend James, the love of his life Lilly, and especially Remus. But this love, as all love is wont to do, evolved into a powerful but well hidden attraction.  
  
Listen, I knew good and well that he was indeed attracted to me and was very shy about it, so I decided to play with him a bit. Now don't let this sound cruel. You know that I'm anything but cruel; especially to those I love and cherish. It was just a bit of innocent fun. Lighten up.  
  
Remus didn't look at me much, but when he did, I smiled or winked at him (After all, such a sly move couldn't be wasted for just little girls!), which caused him to blush furiously and seek a safe haven behind one of his many handy text books he often carried about for some odd reason. Just think on it for one moment. OUR dear Remus J. Lupin. Moony. BLUSHING! Blushing like a young, naïve girl being escorted down a carpeted chapel isle on her wedding day! Blushing like Snow White when she first meets her dashing Prince Charming! Although I'm not claiming that our dear Remus is snowy or white, or that I am charming or indeed a prince, but—. BLUSHING! Now think about my reaction. Sent me into ROUNDS of laughter.  
  
It often came to the point where I stalked him in the corridors between classes, in the dormitories (Heh, Heh), The Great Hall, the common Room, and the courtyard, among other places. I always stopped him, forced the book away from his face (He always had a nasty little habit of hiding his face behind his textbooks. They must be shelters for him, walls to keep the rest of the world out. How adorable it all seems now!) and demand to know why the bloody hell he was avoiding me (Well, it was TRUE! He WAS avoiding me by then, and James had more detentions than he could count... and I couldn't hang around with that blasted Wormtail all day, so Lupin, naturally, evolved into my number one companion. One companion that never looked me straight in the eyes.). Poor thing just shrugged the whole thing off (Which was really the only option he had. I'm so TERRIBLE.) and scuttle into an empty classroom or something. Always a hiding place near. One time I even saw him jump into a broom closet with a Slytherin to avoid me. Wonder what happened then...  
  
And the harassment didn't stop there! I'm just AWFUL, aren't I? After that I stopped him in the corridors, caught his eye, winked, and sometimes blew little kisses at him that no one else seemed to notice except of course the two of us. I thought the little blush that colored his sickly pale cheeks was absolutely adorable. And the way he scuttled off as if he didn't NOTICE I was pretty sure of where he'd be next was an absolute RIOT. But a cute one, I might add. And is it wrong to say that I adored Remus' shy attention more than I enjoyed the affections I got from those idiot girls that stalked me night and day. They irritated me, all of them. I'd have to say that the time and affection I got from Remus was much more flattering. After all, HE was the only one I wanted.  
  
And I can't deny that I've had the occasional midnight snog with a girl, but to be truly honest, they meant nothing to me. The whole time I thought about someone ELSE'S soft lips against mine. Lovely little fantasy, is it not? I thought so. That was truly what I wanted. In fact the only petty desire that I simply HAD to fulfill. Hold Remus in my arms. Sweet supple Remus just maybe for ONCE. One second. One minute. How ever short. But that was the WORLD to me, it truly was.  
  
I waited.  
  
And I waited.  
  
I waited for the exact moment to profess my true feelings, however, the circumstances were quite impossible, considering that fact that we were always amongst people. People who watch. People who are always there*. But did I ever let that stop me before? Never. But a time did come when our dear Remus was alone with me.  
  
ALONE!  
  
I must explain that the school was almost literally cleared out due to the fact that the last Quidditch game of the year was taking place. Believe me, I would have given my left eye to see James catch the snitch, and Remus would have given up a year's worth of textbooks, too. But a very UNFORTUNATE accident took place (Wink, wink) and we weren't able to take the end of year exams. So we HAD to study, and Remus insisted that we stay in the Gryffindor common room to study, and try not to get seduced into sneaking out to watch the game (Mainly because the prefects has the whole place literally patrolled, and Remus, poor Remmy didn't want to take the risk of another miserable detention with the History Of Magic teacher.)  
  
So we sat there.  
  
And we studied.  
  
And studied.  
  
And studied.  
  
Until-- a MARVELOUS idea came to me. This was the PERFECT time to take a chance at winning Remus over. I would just silently wait for the appropriate moment to come. And, because I'm lucky and you know, it came as soon as I thought it would. Remmy had dropped his quill underneath the large oak table we were sitting at and went down on his knees beside his chair to retrieve it. HA! And you know what I did next?  
  
-- I beat him to the punch--  
  
Before he could protest, my hand swiftly and deliberately stretched out across the length of the floor to land just in time atop Moony's hand. Remus gave a little yelp/gasp (they can be both at the same time, you know) and snatched his hand from under mine within a split second. I smiled secretly to myself before applying my fake but effective frown and leaned towards him slowly.  
  
"Moony, are you alright? Did I hurt you? What's up?"  
  
Secret smile.  
  
Nervous amber eyes peering at me from behind a curtain of feathery brown hair.  
  
A little quiver in the corner of his pale mouth.  
  
A heart beat.  
  
I took his hand gingerly in my own, careful not to go so fast as to frighten him or make him more nervous than he already was. A blush came over his pale cheeks within an instant. I spoke a few more words of false concern. I leaned over to press my lips to his ear. "Is this why you're acting so strange?" I kissed his ear and my lips moved to his cheek. "Is there something we both should know?" Ah! This was unbearable! His flesh beneath my lips was so tempting, I wanted to throw him on the floor and kiss him right then and there. But I didn't.  
  
Instead I only brushed my lips against his own while saying these words. "I like you, Remus, I really do..." The agony of passion! I heard him breathe. It was ragged, unstable. I felt the pounding of his heart against mine. Or was it the pounding of my heart that I heard? I still do not know, even to this day. Gave in to my weakness to kiss him. I think I moaned before my mouth closed over his. I cradled the back of his head in my hand. I felt his stance give way. Or was I falling over? I remain so confused about my actions to this very day. But, regardless of who fell over first, he sunk to the hearth beneath me, lips trembling as mine were, finally locking together again in perfect harmony. He was so shy and vulnerable in my arms that I did not want to let him go.  
  
But I did. I was torturing myself as well as I was torturing him. I wanted him so badly at that moment it was menacing down to the very core. I had to make him ache for more, as I was aching. Scream inside as I was screaming. And if that scream could be interpreted as sound, the glass on the windows would have broken. So strong was the fire inside me!  
  
But, before I did release him, I allowed myself the one lonely pleasure of dipping my tongue into his mouth. And then our kiss broke. I was charged and craving, he was dazed and confused*.  
  
I stood over him, now. I surveyed him for several seconds. His eyes were glazed; his peaky cheeks were faintly colored with a red tinge that must have been a blush. His small chest was heaving gently and silently up and down, up and down, up and down.  
  
Then he looked up at me.  
  
Slowly he closed his eyes and then opened them. I could hear his breathing. But-- or was it my breathing? I stretched my hand out to him. I smiled as he came around and took my hand gingerly. Every ounce of my pride, my craftiness, and my control was coming back to me as I watched his every movement. I pulled him up to his feet.  
  
He was still breathing hard. His eyes were still glazed. In truth he looked so delirious to me that I was afraid that he was going to fall to the ground in one shivering heap. I squeezed his hand confidently and leaned over to kiss him again. Tenderly, as if to reassure him of something, whatever that something is.  
  
In a soft, low voice I told him that we should move our ministrations to the comfortable little couch in the corner rather than the stone hearth that was surely taking a toll on his back. But, now that I think about it, he probably didn't care about any pain he was receiving at the moment, if it didn't propel his desire for me. Forgive me for interrupting my tale and therefore breaking the rules of story telling. But it feels wonderful to be loved, especially when you are deprived of it for some amount of time. You yearn for the affections of someone you treasure. Right now I need that more than ever. You may think that I am not telling you this story in earnest, and I even think that I took that moment for granted at the time. But now I deeply regret that. I want nothing more now than to cherish these moments of warmth and love, and to dream of what would have happened afterwards if I had just changed one little action.  
  
The truth is: I need love more than ever now. I am in a place where I am stripped of all affection and pride, a place where I am just another face in the long list of ruthless criminals, of which I am truly not because I have done nothing! I am in a place where I am judged for something that I have been falsely accused of. There is absolutely no hope for me here, because I am virtually unredeemable. And I sacrificed my freedom and my life and my lover and friends and my poor godson Harry for something that I couldn't have changed with any amount of power! But what is important now is that I need to remember this moment for comfort, because this is the only comfort I have left.  
  
But I must continue with this tale.  
  
Most of all I must, because if I don't I shall go mad.  
  
I led him to the couch. His hand was soft and warm in mine as I squeezed it and held. I wish I could hold that hand now. I feel like weeping! Seriously, the desire to weep now is so strong that I can't handle it. But I should remember the happiness I felt. Because I felt supremely happy at that moment! I can still feel the sensation of his pliant skin, like a baby's beneath my fingertips.  
  
He sat beside me on the couch. I draped my arm over his shoulder. I wanted to kiss him again. So I did. What in the hell was stopping me, hmm? So my mouth closed over his, and I lifted my hand to touch his cheek. Mmm, such a soft, pleasant sensation of his skin beneath my fingertips. It was perfect beneath my fingers. Now my fingertips tingle, a very odd feeling, I need to touch his face again. I need him so badly now. This is torture for me now, as it was then, as it always will be until I have him completely. So strange how the yearning of a boy can intensify when he becomes a man. You discover that passion is more than kissing and cuddling.  
  
Please forgive me. Let me brood on.  
  
I let my hand run over his shoulder covetously, as if it had a mind of its own. I felt the desperate but polite and affectionate press of his palm against the back of my skull. It beckoned me to kiss him deeper, harder. But I didn't.  
  
It's amazing how stupid I was at times.  
  
I broke the kiss again. Idiot, Sirius! I kissed him again and again, quickly, what one would call baby kisses (I'm not a pedophile). He kissed me back just as gently and sweetly and delicately. There's this odd sensation I feel in my lips now. It's hopeless. Why do I keep remembering these things if they hurt me like this! I'll wrap my arms around myself; pretend that it's Remus. It comforts me. Will it work now? Perhaps.  
  
I gave in finally and locked my mouth to his again and I plunged my tongue deep into him. He received it gratefully with his own. I think I heard him moan. Or was that my moan? I DON'T BLOODY REMEMBER! Oh well, it's the memory that counts.  
  
I broke away. I hated myself for it. I hate myself for it even now. Wasn't I brilliant? I think I heard him breath. But I remember bringing my lips to his throat and kissing him there. I think we were lying on top of each other now. I don't know. But I was so happy! I was so elated, and the passion was burning in me! BURNING.  
  
But something happened then. And it makes me cry now, it does, I think tears are welling up in my eyes.  
  
I felt Remus' body tense in an odd, uncomfortable way, in a way that said "Danger, Sirius". A little impatiently I raised my head to see what was bothering him. And then I saw him.  
  
No, I don't mean Remus.  
  
I mean James.  
  
James was there, standing stalk still in the doorway, staring at us with wide eyes. I was shocked, though my face hardly showed it. Remus and I untangled ourselves from each other quickly and I gave James a very nervous smile.  
  
"How did the game go, James?"  
  
"That's not the game I'm interested in at the moment, Sirius." It had been a while since he'd called me by my name. He always referred to me as Padfoot. I knew he SAW it. His glasses were dangling from his nose at an odd angle. Quickly, he reached up to replace them.  
  
Remus gave another one of those adorable little blushes of his. "James it's not what you think--." I interrupted him for the sake of saving my masculinity (as if I were ever really masculine at all...)  
  
"Yeah, um, he, he...."  
  
Remus interrupted me. He scrambled up from the couch. MY HERO! "He's trying to say that I fainted.... And He, well, he brought me to the couch to give me mouth to mouth."  
  
I nodded. Crazy enough to work. I LOVE YOU REMUS!  
  
James looked to the ground, surveying what Remus had just said. "Okay," He said, running his white hand through his unkempt mop of black hair. "I'm going off to bed."  
  
He sped up the staircase, into the dormitories.  
  
Do you think that my tale would have ended there? It didn't of course. But what happened after that, really, is ancient history. But I must tell you about what happened after that, regardless of whether it was history or not. After all, history repeats itself. And we learn from it.  
  
Remus and I have never spoken of those events, at least not to each other. We never exchanged words as we got up to the couch and parted our ways. But that wasn't the last of it.  
  
I remember that I couldn't sleep that night. I tossed and turned; I tried as many positions as possible. I was never comfortable, not at all.  
  
I went to Remus. He lay asleep in his bed, curled up comfortable and adorably in the sheets. I brought the blanket over him again. I cleared his soft brown hair away from his face and kissed the smooth pale curve of his cheek.  
  
I stoked his hair and whispered quietly.  
  
"Goodnight..."  
  
Note: Expect an almost total revamping of chapter one! ( 


End file.
